Chapter 198: The Gates of Hell

I know it’s just a simple mental twist but the urgency of the need always increases as the distance to safety decreases; my ruin nearly came when the first privy door was locked. A grumpy, straining voice instructed me to “Fuck off” while I was already on my way to door number two. Pucker factor was off the charts and I had broken out in a full-on, dripping sweat; I was truly afraid that I was doing permanent damage to my faithful rectum.

Were the second hole to be occupied I knew that I’d be fertilizing the yard and cleaning it up later, a performance that I was quite sure that any and all passers-by would prefer to miss. Mercifully the second door opened and the hole was available, my trousers were at my ankles and my ass was planted over the hole faster than I would have thought possible.

So naturally as soon as I reached safety nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

Well until that bugle started up and that bugle came with a scrotum shrinking cramp of pain.

Apparently someone had stuffed a bugle up my ass and when I began to relax the relief came as gas blowing out and it was blowing a tune. It was blowing a long and loud note on that invisible bugle which had somehow secreted itself in my sorry ass. That damn note was impressive, bringing a comment of accolade from my erstwhile shitter mate. That moment of grandeur quickly passed as the note got deeper in tone and ended in a loud ‘Blatt!’.

Then the smell hit us. A double holed out-house means that you share a septic hole with two seats on top of it and there is no courtesy flush available, to top it off the only privacy was a loose hanging piece of burlap. The experience was definitely a shared one. The odor that my body shared was beyond description; it was worse than the smell of the rotting dead, it was pretty much other-worldly in description. As I sat there in my incredibly awful smell I reflected back on a bad middle school joke calling it ‘Marvin the Martian’s Revenge’ as opposed to ‘Montezuma’s Revenge’; we were in middle school, stupid but acceptable pre-teen joke.

Regardless of the descriptor the output of my nether regions was mind numbingly offensive and invasive. My unknown friend occupying the other hole cursed vividly and exited at extreme speed. Apparently the smell was no where near as funny as the sound that delivered that extremely offensive odor.

Then everything stopped. Just flat out stopped. The pain was gone, the pressure was gone and only the scent of the moment remained.

That seemed to have been that; seemed to at least until I bent forward to latch the door. Apparently that was all it took.

The gates of hell opened and they opened wide.

Pure misery for a good twenty minutes.

We even seemed to have half-time break (sans entertainment) and I used that brief respite to light a cigarette in an futile attempt to drive away some of the horrific odor.

My joyous session ended in whatever the lower intestinal version of ‘dry heaves’ is called, seemingly nothing was left to expel.